


On her Balcony at Midnight

by panda013 (Amiria_Raven)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Making Out, Reveal Fic, and then suddenly there's ladynoir and adrienette too, i just wanted to write them making out okay, shameless chatinette smooches, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 02:19:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5230166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amiria_Raven/pseuds/panda013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She looks like an angel, and although he knows he shouldn’t, that she could be in danger if anyone sees, he can’t stop himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When his hands cup her cheeks as she avoids his gaze, Chat Noir is positively smitten. 

He doesn't quite remember when it started, these visits to his civilian classmate, but he's not sure he can bring himself to stop. She's so much more confident around him as Chat than she is around Adrien, and he doesn't know why nor does he care. She’s so  _expressive_ , and so  _genuine_ , that he can’t get enough of teasing her, riling her up.

He can’t get enough of  _her_.

Of Marinette, the girl who is always so nervous and shy around him even though she sits behind him in class. The girl who is energetic and bubbly and just so clumsy he can’t help but watch her to make sure she’s not going to trip and fall.

And so he’s always here, on her balcony at midnight. 

And if Adrien can’t get the energetic, teasing side of her to come out, Chat Noir certainly can. It’s almost as if he’s not one of the heroes of Paris, as if he’s not famous at all, as if he’s just...a friend. And it’s something that Adrien  _craves_  with all of his being. But...but there’s something more there, and he wants to find out what it is.

Sometimes, she reminds him just a little of his lady. Her eyes shine just as brightly, just as blue, and she has her brave moments where she can stand up to people like Chloe, where she tries to push Alya out of the vicinity when an akuma victim attacks and the devoted Ladyblogger tries to get the scoop on Ladybug and Chat Noir. 

But she’s  _Marinette_ , and he’s enthralled.

As he looks down at her, a slight flush on her cheeks-- _finally,_  he thinks, after a few months of trying--he can’t help himself.

His lips touch her forehead, and she inhales slowly, surprised.

“Chat...” she murmurs, but she doesn’t try to move as one of his clawed hands carefully slips behind her neck, underneath hair that’s undone and damp from her recent shower. 

He brushes his lips against her temple, and then against the corner of her eye, her cheek, a series of three light, butterfly kisses along her jaw. He hears her breath catch, but she still makes no move to back away. One of her hands rests against his chest, but she’s not using it to push him away. Chat Noir takes another step, pinning her closer to the balcony rail, as he presses his lips against the corner of her mouth, where he can just taste the remnants of something sweet.

He pulls back to look at her then, Adrien taking over momentarily, but he’s entranced by the way her lips are slightly parted, her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed. She looks like an angel, and although he knows he shouldn’t, that she could be in danger if anyone sees, he can’t stop himself.

Chat angles his hand differently, tilting her head, and she stares into his eyes with what almost seems like... _anticipation_. Maybe  _longing_.

And he slips his other hand around her waist, pulling her flush against him with a hand in the small of her back, and he finally,  _finally_  steals her breath away when he covers her mouth with his own. But what he’s not expecting is the way she slides her arms around his neck, one hand threading through his blond locks, as she pushes up on her tiptoes and kisses him back.

If she keeps holding him like this, he knows he’ll never be able to let go.

But then she pulls him closer, and his mind is lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, his mind a blur of colors and sounds and the taste of strawberries on her lips and he thinks that maybe, just maybe, she’s been waiting for him to kiss her almost as long as he’s been debating whether he should or shouldn’t.

The moment they break apart for air, he knows he should leave, but all he can do is breathe a gentle, “Princess...” before her lips are on his and he’s pulling her as close as he can, leaning over her and kissing her with all the feeling he thinks he has.

And she’s kissing him with that same fervor, her arms pulling him down and scarcely giving him any choice but to kiss harder to maintain his dominance.

Adrien’s trying to control himself--he really is--but she’s so alluring that he can’t help himself. When their lips meet for the third time, it’s even more insistent, and then when she captures his lips for the sixth time, he can’t take it anymore. She’s taking over his mind, winning over his heart, and he knows it’s the end. He knows that he’s falling, and he doesn’t even want to run away anymore.

His teeth scrape almost impatiently across her bottom lip, and Marinette, sweet, shy Marinette, brushes her tongue lightly across his in return, and then he’s absolutely positive that he’s in too deep to back out now as his tongue flicks out to meet hers and they tangle together. He’s feeling more now than he ever has before, and he slides both hands to her waist, his fingertips digging in even as he’s careful to watch his claws, and both of her hands are tangled, almost painfully, in his hair as the heat builds between them.

She’s kissing his doubts away, and he knows that he shouldn’t be doing this, not here, not now, and not with  _her_...but the way her lips brush his jaw shortly after they pull apart again is drawing him back, even as she trails light butterfly kisses up to his actual ear, not his black, leather cat ears, nipping softly at the lobe.

A low growl comes from the back of his throat despite how he tries to suppress it, and Adrien knows that he’ll be back here, night after night, if it means he can feel this again.

His lips attack her neck then, feverishly, and the soft sounds of heaven assault his senses as she lets her head fall back for Chat Noir to do his worst. But he catches himself before he leaves something that will be entirely too visible--choosing instead to mark the spot just below her collarbone, where her nightgown top has fallen slightly off one shoulder.

When she pulls his face back up to kiss him, her eyes are glazed and he  _knows_  she wants this as much as he does.

And so he crashes his lips against hers, wasting no time as his tongue begins to dance with hers again, his arms pulling her flush against him as he picks her up so that she’s sitting on the railing of her balcony, clinging to him as he’s clinging to her.

And somehow, he can’t find it in him to care that they could be seen from nearby rooftops--and apparently, neither does she, because her legs squeeze his hips slightly as she, from her new, higher vantage, takes over the kiss. And she’s so good, and she tastes so sweet, that he just wants to let her kiss him all night.

But eventually, with kiss-bruised lips and hair that was three times as disheveled as it usually was, Chat Noir bid his Princess a good night, smirking at her own kiss-bruised lips, the way her nightgown was still slipping from one shoulder and how her dark hair fell, with slight curls, around her face. She bid him a soft farewell, and when he glanced back from the next roof over, he saw her put her hand to her lips, hiding a soft smile.

He came back a few nights later with a single rose and lips ready to be ravaged, and he doesn’t leave disappointed.


	2. On her Balcony at Midnight, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She can’t take keeping this secret from him any longer because even though she’s always loved Adrien, her kitty has wormed his way into her heart with his words, his love, and maybe with his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave in to a request/prompt on tumblr for a continuation of this story. I actually already had the idea forming, and kept telling myself I wouldn't write it, and yet here I am. I hope you guys like it!

She’s conflicted.

Oh, hell, Marinette’s been conflicted since her feline partner started showing up for casual visits to her civilian self shortly after their patrols finish in the evenings.

On one hand, she loves the easy camaraderie they’ve built up from each successive midnight rendezvous. It makes her feel like their strengthening their partnership, and she can read Chat Noir so much better after some of these conversations that it’s kind of scary. But on the other hand...

Marinette’s not sure how she let it get this far. She’s loved Adrien Agreste since she met him, two years ago now, and she still sometimes has trouble speaking in front of him, so she knows she still likes him. But Chat is a completely different story. She’s known him for a few months longer than she’s known Adrien, and she’s been close friends with him for pretty much the entire time--despite his incessant flirtations with her superhero identity--so it’s understandable that they get along so well.

What Marinette still has trouble wrapping her mind around is the new feelings that have started stirring in her gut.

If they started when he first came to visit her--which nearly gave her a heart attack because she thought he’d found her out--then her affections only escalated since then. And then came that faithful night on her balcony, where suddenly she found that he was in her personal space and  _she didn’t want him to leave_.

And her kitty comes back, at least once a week, and she finds that he never leaves without a distinctly rumpled look about his person. Particularly those silky, golden locks.

It’s scary, and it’s so very new, but this raw emotion that Marinette feels is just so  _alluring._

She can’t take keeping this secret from him any longer because even though she’s always loved Adrien, her kitty has wormed his way into her heart with his words, his love, and maybe with his lips. And she’s incredibly embarrassed to think about it, and she’s still amazed that, of all the people in Paris,  _she’s_  the one he’s found to talk to, to visit in costume, to  _ravish_  her  _lips_  at every opportunity she gets.

He’s found his Ladybug’s civilian identity, and he doesn’t even know.

They’re kissing-- _making out_ \--on a rooftop in the middle of Paris at least once a week, up to three times a week, and he still hasn’t figured out that she also dons a mask with the aid of a kwami.

It’s eating at her, keeping it from him.

With deep breaths, and many murmured conversations with Tikki, she comes to her decision. It makes her nervous, makes her heart pound, but she’s  _Ladybug_ , Chat’s first lady love, and she’s also Marinette, his  _current_  lady love--if she could consider herself that? 

She steels herself, because the next time that Ladybug and Chat Noir meet, she’s going to give him knowledge that he’s been wanting for such a long time.

* * *

 

It’s just her luck that an akuma victim shows up that night, while she’s still working up her courage. But she’ll show him tonight, because it’s a prime opportunity. 

It almost feels like cheating when she had been planning to just meet up with him for the big reveal, but she’s not going to question it now. She just needs to get to the scene, handle the situation with Chat, and then she can worry about the heart-to-heart that the partners need to have.

And so Ladybug takes off from Marinette’s balcony at approximately 11:36 in the evening, winging her way directly to the scene of the disturbance, and settles in to deal with a sewage-spewing utility worker who has finally had enough of being overworked and underpaid. She doesn’t blame him, because that sewage  _reeks_ , and Chat’s reeling from the smell.

She doesn’t envy his enhanced scent when he’s in the suit.

But she’s too busy dodging that she can scarcely call a warning to her kitty while he’s mildly indisposed from the smell, and a second later, a manhole cover slams into his shoulder. She winces, and she wants to call out to him, but she knows that she has to focus, and she’s only glad she warned him when she did or else that solid piece of metal would have broken his  _skull_.

The images of that possibility haunt her as she finally uses her Lucky Charm, pauses momentarily as she stares at the  _manhole cover_  in her hands. Was her luck trying to mock her, now?

But after a quick look, and Chat performing miraculously--no pun intended--despite his obvious shoulder injury and his oversensitive nose, Ladybug spots the manhole where all of his sewage is gushing from. From that point, it’s a piece of cake to seal up the hole, knock his wrench out of his hand, and wait for Chat to slam his staff down on the tool.

She cleanses it, murmuring, “Bye, bye, little butterfly!” as she watches the snow white butterfly disappear among the stars in the night sky. 

With a grimace, she reaches for the red and black manhole cover, which feels considerably lighter than a real one would, before throwing it up in the air and watching as the light cleansed the area, the city, and, thankfully, their suits. She doesn’t want to smell like sewage when she talks to him--but first things first, she’s going to take a look at his shoulder.

She does it almost subconsciously, ignoring as her Miraculous beeps its first warning.

When she realizes what she’s done, she’s shoving a confused Chat Noir into her room from the balcony-- _thank God she’s taken down all of those embarrassing posters of Adrien_ \--forcing him to sit in her desk chair, and rummaging through a random drawer of sewing supplies to find her well-stocked first aid kit.

She ignores the second beep of warning.

“Ladybug, what are we--”

 _What are we doing here_? is probably the question on his tongue, but she steps over to him with a purpose, the first aid kit landing heavily on her desk. She’s thankful that her parents went to visit a friend for the next couple of days and are out of town, because she doesn’t have a clue how to explain why she’s wearing the colors of one of the heroes of Paris and why she’s got the other hero of Paris sitting in her computer chair.

Her Miraculous beeps again.

“What were you  _thinking_ , standing so close?” she asks, reaching forward to gently probe at his shoulder, watching as he winces and flinching when he hisses in pain. “The smell was bothering you, Chat, so you should have tried distance!”

“I was trying to buy you time!” he retorted quickly, flinching again as she prods another area. “He would have kept targeting you if I hadn’t distracted him, My Lady, and the only way to do that was to give him a polite knock in the head!”

“I can handle myself,” she says, leaning back to look him in the eyes. She loves looking into his eyes, even if the feline pupils and the overall green is a trick of the suit.

“I know, My Lady, but I can’t watch you get hurt,” his tone was clipped, and she saw him peering nervously around the room--almost as if he was expecting someone to show up.

She wishes that he’d connect the dots already.

Her fourth warning sounds.

“My Lady, your Miraculous--”

“You  _stupid_  cat!” she finally hisses through her teeth, gripping his face with both hands as she leans down to kiss him.

His breath catches in his throat, and she can practically hear the gears turning in his head as he struggles to put together the reasons that  _Ladybug_  would be  _kissing him_  in  _Marinette’s_  room at midnight. Her last beep sounds and after a few seconds, she feels the suit she’s hiding behind slip away.

And then she’s just Marinette, pulling away from Chat’s lips reluctantly, nervously, but also with a determined frown.

“I don’t like it when you get hurt,” she murmurs softly, and she watches his green eyes widen as one of his gloved hands lifts to gently trail his claws along her jaw. Even this little contact is enough to make her want to  _attack_  him with kisses and smother him with her affections...but she’s Marinette and she’s also Ladybug, and with his new knowledge of both parts of her, she’s unsure if she can still do that. “I especially don’t like it when you’re taking a hit for me.”

“My Lady?”

She flinches, stepping back and away from his touch. His voice is soft, tentative, and she’s frightened at what his reaction might be. Is that the way Chat expresses disappointment? Is it his surprise? Does he still trust her like they’ve always trusted each other?

“I’m sorry,” she finds herself unable to look back at the hero she’s grown to love-- _even though she loves Adrien_ , too--and she talks to her floor instead. “I should have told you sooner, Chat...”

Her cheeks are flushed, though, and she knows that he can see it despite the fact that she never even turned her light on. A lamp is still on, from when she left earlier, but it’s the only light in the room and it’s casting shadows so that she can’t read the entirety of his expression because the lamp’s shining towards her face from behind his back.

Her desk chair squeaks as he stands, the wheels clicking as they roll a few inches.

And then Chat’s hands are on her shoulders, and she’s forced to look up, to meet his eyes, and when she does she can’t think of what to say. She’s struck speechless by the look he wears--a look that screams  _I want to kiss you_  as well as y _ou’re the love of my life_  mingled with a soft  _and I could ravish you,_  and she’s not sure which one she prefers. 

“So what you’re telling me,  _Princess_ ,” his breath ghosts across her ear and she shivers, feeling the familiar, feverish heat rising, “is that I’m so  _purrfect_  and so  _fortunate_ that both of the ladies I love are  _the same person?”_

Her breath hitches in her throat and she has to bite her lip as his teeth lightly graze the top of her ear. She swallows thickly, but brings herself to nod. A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest and his breath is still on her ear and she’s going  _insane_.

His Miraculous beeps then, just as he places a soft kiss on her hair, and she glances down to realize that, somehow, they’d missed his first three warnings.

“Y-you should go get medical attention,” she forces herself to say, slipping from his grasp and turning her back to him. “Your transformation’s about to--”

“If I remember correctly, Princess,” his arms wrapped around her middle from behind, and she’s both thrilled and nervous as he pulls her back against the hard planes of his leather-clad body, “ _you’re_  the one that was always worried about your identity. I wanted to show you first.”

“You still need medical attention.”

“Later,” he dismisses her concern for the moment, and Marinette doesn’t say anything back.

Of course she doesn’t. She  _can’t_  because she can’t deny how much she wants to know who he his. She wants to be able to know the man behind the mask of the silly kitty she’s in love with so that maybe, just maybe, she can move on from her feelings for Adrien.

“Marinette,” he murmurs in her ear, “ _can I kiss you again?”_

At his words, the sincerity in his tone, the dark-haired girl is positively  _floored_. He’s being so considerate, as always, and she wonders how she never fell for him before.

Rather than answering him, she turns in the circle of his arms, slips her hands up to his neck, rises to her tiptoes, and he meets her halfway, lips urgent and hungry, just as his final beep sounds into the still night air.

Her eyes are closed, but she can still feel when black leather turns to cotton, and when claws turn to fingertips digging even more insistently into her hips as Chat kisses her more hungrily than ever before. She doesn’t care that she doesn’t know exactly who she’s kissing--not right now. 

Marinette lets herself sink into bliss. She responds instantly when his tentative tongue lightly traces the contour of her lips, and she feels when he gains his confidence back as his hand slides up to her neck, fingers into her hair, as his tongue searches every part of her mouth that he can reach. She can tell that his own hair his shorter now than it is when he’s in the suit, but she just pulls him closer so she can run her hands through it.

She has to pull away for air before he does, and she keeps her eyes closed as her chest heaves. She hears Chat’s heavy breathing, feels it as it fans across her nose right before he leaves a light kiss on the tip of her nose, then one on each eyelid. 

“Marinette,” he whispers, in a voice that speaks volumes about how nervous he really is even though there’s a definite attempt at his usual bravado, “ _look at me_.”

And, with one more deep breath, Marinette  _does._

When she sees another pair of startlingly familiar eyes, she wants to swoon before she remembers that she was through with that phase of her life.

Instead, she reaches up to gently cup his face once more, turning his head gently from one side to another as she leaves butterfly kisses on each cheek. His hands travel down her back and come to rest at her hips, and she feels how stiff his movements are. It’s endearing to know that even her kitty has his insecurities, but she needs to address them because she doesn’t think she’s ever felt such a strong surge of love in her entire life and she doesn’t want to miss this chance because she’s always been incredibly awkward around him.

“We’ve both had the ladybug’s luck tonight, kitty,” Marinette tries to tease him, just a little. “It looks like both of the people that I’ve loved were the same all along, too.”

His face lights up like the streets on Christmas, and a nervous chuckle in his chest turns into a gleeful laugh, and she’s giggling with him as he leans forward to kiss her--short, chaste kisses that repeat, again and again, as he whispers soft words of affection between them. He pecks her lips, lingering for just moments, before ghosting his lips across her cheeks, her jaw, her nose, her temple, her forehead. The order is never the same, but she’s so happy that she doesn’t particularly care, save for the part where  _he’s still injured and needs to calm down and get some medical attention_.

And it takes a while, but when she finally gets him to sit on the edge of her bed and demands to see his injury, Adrien Agreste  _winks_ at her and peels his entire shirt off.

Fireworks explode behind her eyes--but first and foremost, Marinette is a woman on a  _mission_ , dammit, and no matter how she wants to run her fingers along every single chiseled  _inch_  of his torso, she’ll wait until she has a good look at that shoulder of his.

And so she looks at his shoulder while he insists that it’s fine, biting her lower lip in a way that drives him  _up the wall,_ examining his bruises as she tries to figure out the best way to deal with them.

But he demonstrates that moving it only gives him minor discomfort when he uses that arm to sweep her off her feet, pulling her onto her own bed as she squeaks in surprise. And his lips are at her throat, biting and nipping lightly as he worked his way to the sensitive spots he knew well.

“A-Adrien!” Marinette squeals softly as her flirtatious,  _shirtless_ , kitty hovers above her, finally biting softly at the spot where she  _knows_  he left his first mark--it’s a spot that’s so close to her heart, figuratively and literally, that she’s almost embarrassed.  _Almost_.

She bites her lip when he sucks at the skin,  _hard_ , muffling her soft whimper. She finally allows her hands to lift, running her fingers lightly along the planes of his chest, exploring as far as she could reach whilst simultaneously steering clear of his injury. She feels the rumble of a low, almost feline growl in his chest when he finally leaves her tender flesh alone.

Adrien-- _Adrien Agreste_ , she’s still so very, very happy about that--trails kisses up the side of her neck, stops to gently nip at the lobe of her ear, before trailing kisses along her jaw. Her hands find their way to his neck and she pulls herself up to lightly brush her lips across the bruise that’s forming where the manhole cover struck him. 

And then she meets his eyes, the smoldering green eyes she has only dreamed of before tonight, and she knows that she must have the same look in her eyes, because he slowly leans down and captures her lips in a slow, gentle kiss that has her mind reeling and her heart racing.

Their kisses tonight are slower, almost  _lazy_ , as he rolls to his side on her bed and drapes an arm across her waist. She slides up against him and it feels like this is the place she  _belongs_ , basking in his warmth as they slowly drift off to sleep as the night wears on around them.

All she can dream about is the love in his eyes and all he can dream about is his home in her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly didn't like this one as much as I liked the first part, but it was kind of fun exploring Marinette's side instead of Chat's/Adrien's this time. Yay?
> 
> Anyway, if you liked it, let me know! :) Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I JUST WANTED TO WRITE CHATINETTE SMOOCHES.
> 
> And they ended up making out. Oops?
> 
> Anywho, I hope you guys enjoyed this! I had fun writing this little tidbit. It only took me about 45 minutes, and I still want to write more shameless Chatinette smooches (because my favorite part of this pairing is confident Chat with confident civilian Marinette).


End file.
